


Affliction of the Heart

by InTheName



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Corporate, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, but also fluff, there will be angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-09-27 17:24:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17166143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheName/pseuds/InTheName
Summary: When Emma Swan started working at Charming Diagnostics, she thought her biggest worry would be the design skills she lied about on her resume, not getting on the bad side of the intimidating and objectively beautiful Head of Sales, Regina Mills. Fortunate that they work at a company leading the field of diagnosing heart conditions, because Emma’s heart definitely skipped a beat.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oceansregina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceansregina/gifts).



> This fic is for kaylee, as a part of the swensecretsanta fic exchange. I was inspired with an idea that grew much too big for me to tackle for Christmas, so this will be the gift that keeps on giving?? maybe??
> 
> I'm going to do my best to update regularly, though I will caveat that life tends to get in the way of my writing. BUT I WILL DO MY BEST! 
> 
> Merry Christmas kay! I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

_“Voici mon secret. Il est très simple : on ne voit bien qu’avec le cœur. L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.”  
\- Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, Le Petit Prince_

***

Emma blinked. 

She blinked again. Surely, there had been some mistake. The question was now, how long before someone noticed? And how long could Emma keep up pretences, because she sure as hell wasn’t going to point out that something had gone terribly wrong in the universe to come together and put her in this position. Was it a fluke? A whim of a higher power? Who’s to say? Emma was never one to kick a gift horse in its mouth. 

“Miss Swan?” 

The distorted voice rang out from the cellphone Emma had nearly forgot she was holding. Emma fumbled the phone and dropped it onto her lap in her effort to return it to her ear. So perhaps she was clumsy enough to drop the gift horse and shatter its mouthpiece.

“Um, yes,” Emma sputtered once she picked the phone back up. “I’m still here.”

“Congratulations on the position, Miss Swan.” The voice continued, unfazed. “We’ll send you your contract in the next few days for your review. See you in six weeks.”

“I look forward to working with you.” Emma barely managed to spit out the pleasantry before her now-boss ended the call. 

Emma let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She stared at the wall in front of her, not registering the time on the clock, nor the calendar that remained several months in the past. She stared through it, as if the wall became window, and pictured fluffy white flecks obscuring her vision. She pictured a steady routine, making coffee in the morning before her brain registered she was awake, running late for the bus and having to run in order to catch it. She pictured a nine to five lifestyle, coming home before dinner to a cat—no, a dog that welcomed her as if she were the most important person there was. 

So no, Emma decided she wouldn’t alert her employer to the glaringly obvious mistake that resulted in her new job. Maybe she’d get a dog. No, a cat.

***

A bright-eyed, cheery woman with a smile larger than what Emma would have guessed was physically possible was staring her down from the advertisement on the other side of the subway car. This sickeningly ecstatic woman was surely meant to project an image of confidence and achieving one’s hopes and dreams, for the low, low price of 5 installments of $50 USD, but to Emma the woman was mocking her, taunting her.

_How do you expect to make a good impression if you’re 15 minutes late on your first day? The woman seemed to say. Who cares if your bus never showed up and you had to walk to the subway stop, eating up your buffer time? Certainly not your boss. Should have known better, should have scheduled in 45 extra minutes!_

Emma ripped her eyes away, opting to look downward at her scuffed shoes instead.

Bitch.

So what if she was going to be late to her first day at what is gearing up to be the best job she’s ever had?

So what if she has a small coffee stain on the hem of her scratchy white blouse that isn’t quite covered up by her jacket?

So what if she wasted the month and a half in which she’d told herself she’d learn those design skills she’d lied about on her resume?

She’d apologize, she’d tuck her shirt in, and she’d figure it out. There was absolutely no need to panic. Emma’s thumb started twitching, tapping out an irregular pattern that might have spelled out _save my soul_ in Morse code, had anyone been listening. No need to panic.

If only this goddamned subway would start moving at its normal speed instead of this languid-ass pace it was keeping. Rush hour delays, the muffled announcer had said. Emma wasn’t sure she believed them, but she was never up on the subway this early enough to know to call their bluff. 

Emma felt herself begin to sweat, a cool presence on the shirt beneath her arms. Just what she needed, pit stains to really round out this haggard, disheveled look she was going for. The subway car jolted to a stop. Had the commuters not been packed in like sardines, someone might have lost their balance. As it were, Emma just banged against someone else who was as warm and damp as she was getting and muttered a barely-audible apology. How long the car was stopped, Emma couldn’t say. It could have been a minute, it could have been ten. The fluorescent lights were beginning to spark a headache and Emma shut her eyes against it, hoping that if she couldn’t see it, the headache wouldn’t see her. 

The car began to move as suddenly as it had stopped, and the passengers were thrown into another round of rattling into one another and not-quite-apologizing. Two more stops. Two more stops, and Emma would be able to breathe again. 

Emma glanced around at the other passengers, avoiding eye contact with the aggressively pleasant poster woman. She saw a man in a freshly pressed suit who kept looking down at his expensive watch. His grip tightened on his briefcase. She saw a woman sitting with a newspaper, who’s elbow kept bumping against her sleeping neighbour at every imperfection in the track. She saw the people she swore she’d never become. 

But here she was, about to start a real job with regular hours and benefits. A month and a half, and Emma still could hardly believe it. 

The subway doors opened and Emma squeezed between two men unaware or uncaring of their surroundings. She felt the freedom like sitting down after a long day, the release of tension she’d adapted to carrying, a breath of fresh air in this underground tunnel with the slightest draft.

The relief didn’t last long. Emma was quickly caught up in the current of commuters exiting the subway station, all acting like they were as late at Emma was. And they probably were. Emma checked her watch. 

8:55 a.m.

Not too shabby, if her office building weren’t a 15 minute walk with all green pedestrian signals. Emma huffed slightly, gripped her backpack strap tighter, and picked up the pace. She waddled up the stairs to the street-side exit, careful not to hip-check anyone on the way up. One right, five blocks and a left later, Emma was staring up at an imposing building of glass windows and metal sills. With added effort, Emma swallowed. 

9:10 a.m.

No time to waste, Emma ignored the sudden dryness of her mouth and entered the building. The interior was just as intimidating as the outside, with cold marbles adorning the floors and the walls beside sleek elevator doors—stainless steel that would accrue fingerprints readily if anyone dared touch them. The surface was immaculate. 

Emma waited patiently in front of the elevator, if patience looked like a nervous twitching of nails against itchy slacks and not-so-subtle glances to the watch on her left wrist every few seconds. 

A small crowd had formed in the time it took for an elevator to arrive. Emma couldn’t guess how many floors were in this tower, or how many companies rented office space with monthly fees Emma didn’t care to imagine. Standing in an overcrowded metal box, Emma wondered if this was really what her life was now; getting closer to strangers than anyone with any significance in her life. Emma shook her head.

The elevator dinged and let her out on the 29th floor. This was it. The first stop on her way to responsible adulthood. Her stop. 

_Charming Diagnostics.  
From our heart to yours,_

read the flashy sign across from the elevator. So, she was in the right place. Emma felt her heartrate slow maybe 5 beats per minute. 

There was an entrance to the left that had a doorbell and a set of chairs. Emma walked up and took a deep breath before raising a shaky hand to ring the doorbell. She waited a moment, and a moment more. Emma raised her hand again but stopped herself before ringing again. It was totally reasonable that whoever was responsible for collecting the new hires on their first day wouldn’t be standing right by the door, waiting. Especially since she was now, Emma glanced at her watch, 16 minutes late for work. Emma sighed and counted to thirty in her head. Then again, but slower because she definitely kept speeding up as the numbers increased.

Emma walked over to the chairs and sat down. The door opened right as her ass hit the leather seat. Figures. 

“Hi, Emma?” A woman with dark brown hair in a pixie cut and kind eyes smiled at her. Her voice was melodic and grating, pushing Emma’s nerves closer to the edge. Emma blinked. 

“Uh, yeah. That’s me.” Emma said, standing up again and reaching a hand out. Professionals shook hands when they greeted each other. That’s what they did, right? This was normal. The norm. 

“Mary Margaret,” the woman shook Emma’s hand without batting an eye. Yes, this was good. “Though don’t feel bad if you don’t remember, you’ll be meeting a lot of people today. Learning a lot of names.”

Emma’s initial unease was lessened, like a knot with enough give to unravel, were she to put her hand in her chest and pull. Emma felt her smile become slightly less forced and decided Mary Margaret might seem like the human form of joy, but she’d defer judgement. 

“Welcome to Charming Diagnostics, we’re happy to have you. Come, I’ll show you around,” Mary Margaret continued, smile unfaltering. 

The “Grand Tour” was a whirlwind of cubicles, closed office doors and workers—co-workers, Emma corrected herself, peering over the tops of their monitors to give a quick hello or wave. They ended in the Sales and Marketing corner of the office, though Emma wasn’t confident she’d be able to find her way back if she left. 

“Alright, here’s your desk.” Mary Margaret gestured towards one cubicle tucked in behind a filing cabinet in the corner of the office. Emma eyed it up and down. It looked rather inconspicuous, like she might be able to duck under her desk for a nap with little to no eyebrows raised. Now, Emma had never pictured a cubicle when she imagined her future as a young child onto her 3rd foster home, but she looked at the one with her name on it and didn’t hate it. Emma realized Mary Margaret had still been talking and snapped back to attention, smoothing her features to exude an air of _I was listening very carefully to everything you said and didn’t doze off once._

“All those forms are here, in the welcome package,” Mary Margaret handed over a thick folder and didn’t seem to notice Emma not have a clue what she was talking about. “You can get started, I’ll go get Elle.”

“Right, will do.” Emma muttered, but Mary Margaret was already rushing off. She rounded her cubicle and flopped into her chair. It rolled away from the desk and Emma fidgeted, finding the spot her ass would soon call home. 

A mass of silky, brown hair popped up overtop of the cubicle wall and Emma nearly fell out of her chair.

“You must be Emma!” The hair framed a face broken into a wide smile. The woman had large, doe-like, brown eyes and her smile was nearly blinding, lined with deep red lips. “I’m Ruby, nice to meet you. Of course, we all stalked your Facebook as soon as you were hired, but hey, it’s nice to meet you in person.”

Emma just blinked.

“I’m on the Marketing and Media team too. Graphic designer.” Ruby continued. “So we’ll be working a lot together.” 

“Uh, cool. Nice to meet you.” Emma answered. 

“Likewise,” Ruby answered, and those doe eye turned wolfish. Emma smirked. Yeah, they’d get along just fine. Ruby pranced off and sat down at an adjacent cubicle. Emma turned to her blank monitor and sighed. Time to get started.

She powered up the computer and stared blankly at the log in screen. Emma opened the folder with the extensive welcome package and was not surprised to find extremely detailed instructions to log in and set up her own password. Similarly, setting up her company email account was a breeze. Maybe she could do this. Maybe she could learn the ropes as she went and everything would be fine.

Then again, when had life let her off the hook so easily?

Emma shook her head and flipped through the papers spread out on her desk and chose one that was legal sized, folded in half. Emma opened it to find the Org Chart of the company. CEO, David Nolan. COO, Russel Gold. CCO, CFO, COO. The titles and names blurred together and they would have been completely meaningless if not for the small thumbnails of company photos in the organizational tree. Emma found the Media and Marketing team, Ruby’s face one of the few familiar faces. She found her boss, Elle De Vil, and her boss’s boss, Mallory Davis. Mallory was the Vice President Sales and Marketing, and managed the Sales team and the Media and Marketing team. Emma’s eyes were drawn to the Head of Sales, her image jumping out form the page. She was striking, with wavy dark hair falling below her chin, a smirk on full pink lips that said she had more important things to do than have her picture taken. Emma traced her finger across the name. Regina Mills.

“Emma, glad you’re getting settled in.” Elle appeared at the entrance to her cubicle. She was tall, made taller by heels that would look more at home on a runway than an office building. Her features were severe and she dressed to match. This was not a woman Emma had any intention of crossing. Emma gulped.

“Hi,” Emma greeted, grimacing internally. What an impression she made with her boss. Great.

“Team, come introduce yourselves.” Elle called over her shoulder. The four nearest cubicles emptied as the team filed in. “We’re a small team, and we’re excited to have you.” 

“Hey, I’m Neal,” a sandy-haired, scruffy looking man putting the “casual” in business casual waved from where he was leaning against Ruby’s cubicle wall. “I’m on the marketing side—advertising, mostly.”

“Trixie. I’m with Neal on marketing. Branding, advertising, the like.” A short and slight woman with a blonde topknot gave a mock salute. 

“I’m Ruby, in case you’ve forgotten since we met earlier.” Ruby winked at her. “I’m on the media side, graphic design, like I said.”

“Welcome to the team, Emma.” Elle said with a smile. She glanced down at her watch and the team dispersed back to their cubicles. “Alright, there’s a training session for the new hires starting in ten in Boardroom B. I assume Mary Margaret gave you the rundown on your training plan?”

“Uh, yeah.” Emma nodded hastily. “She did.” Emma had no clue what Elle was talking about. 

Elle chuckled and whipped out her smartphone, typing something with agile thumbs. “Well, I am certain that Mary Margaret has it thoroughly documented, you know, if you forget.” Elle looked up from the screen to wink, her pace not slowing. Emma chuckled.

“Right. Do I need to bring anything to the,” Emma glanced quickly down at the list of her training sessions, hoping Elle wouldn’t notice while she finished her email. When Emma looked back up, Elle’s thumbs had stilled and she was looking at Emma with a smirk. “History of Charming Diagnostics session?” Emma kept her poker face, which seemed to elicit a twinkle in her boss’s eye.

“Bring your notepad and pen so you look like you’re paying attention.” Elle said with a shrug. “Don’t take notes, it’s just an introductory thing. Shouldn’t take too long. Here, I’ll walk you.”

Emma grabbed the notebook with the company’s insignia that had been tucked into the welcome package and a pen from her backpack. 

“Thank you.” Emma said as she fell into step beside Elle. 

“I think you’ll fit in well here, Emma.” Elle said lightly. They turned a corner and came to a stop in front of a closed door. 

“Thanks,” Emma said. Elle nodded and walked off. Emma opened the door to find a small, mousey woman sitting at the table already. She gave a small smile and finished writing something down in her notebook. There was a projector screen with the opening slide of a PowerPoint set up. Emma sat down across from the woman and peaked at her notes. She’d copied down the title of the presentation. Huh. Clearly, she wasn’t leading this session.

“Hi, I’m Emma.” The woman put her pen down and gave a smile.

“I’m Belle.” She stood up slightly to shake Emma’s hand across the table. “I guess we’re the two December hires?”

“Aha, looks like it.” Emma answered. “I’m with the Media and Marketing team. Where are you?”

“I’m in the Research and Development department, I’m a chemist,” Belle answered. Well, that explained the note-taking before the training session started. The door opened again and a middle-aged, I-spend-my-weekends-on-the-golf-course looking guy walked in. His features were probably once boyishly handsome, but the receding hairline betrayed his years.

“Hi Belle, Emma,” the man nodded at each of them in turn. “I’m David Nolan, CEO of Charming Diagnostics.”

David sat down in the chair next to the screen, sitting casually in a way that looked practiced. Emma and Belle muttered their hellos.

“Charming Diagnostics started ten years ago with a dream.” David launched right into it, and Emma felt distinctly like she was being pitched to. Which like, she was already hired, signed her contract and everything, she wasn’t the one who needed to be convinced. “A dream to end preventable deaths from heart conditions. One in four Americans die from heart disease. It’s the leading cause of death for men and women. Everyone knows a family member, a friend, who’s been affected. 

“Here at Charming Diagnostics, we believe that we can enable proactive management of heart conditions and disease by early and accurate diagnosis. It started with two guys in the garage of my mother’s house,” David let out a chuckle, apparently gripped by the tendrils of nostalgia. “Jeff and I dreamed big, but we could never have guessed that we’d make it this far.”

Definitely the sales pitch that had been presented to investors over the years. Emma listened very carefully to everything David said. And definitely didn’t doze off.

***

The office lunch room was full of noise, if not people. There were more tables than the office probably needed for everyone and their uncle to eat lunch together. People were gathered around tables that buzzed with enthusiasm. The workers seemed like friends. And the extra room was optimistic, Emma decided. She let out a smile. 

“C’mon, we like to sit near the window,” Ruby whispered. 

The Media and Marketing time had all checked in with each other before going to lunch, so they could eat together. It was sweet, and unlike the atmosphere at any of Emma’s last dead-end jobs. And they had a “spot” it seemed. Maybe reminiscent of high school cafeteria politics, but Emma decided it, too, was sweet. Their spot turned out to be at the corner of the wall of large windows and the kitchenette. Prime real estate in a lunchroom setting.

Emma sat down beside Ruby, across from Neal and Trixie. Emma began to unzip her lunch bag, a worn purple bag with the silver insulating lining peeling off on the inside. But it had shooting stars on the purple backdrop, so Emma wasn’t letting go of it any time soon. 

“Ugh,” Ruby scrunched up her nose. “Who is microwaving fish in the office lunchroom?”

“The worst kind of person,” Trixie grumbled as she pushed her rice bowl around in its Tupperware container. “Anyone who brings fish to lunch in the office is the absolute worst and should be fired on sight.” Neal let out a small chuckle. Trixie looked almost sheepish. “Or at least given a stern talking to.” Emma quickly pushed her tuna salad sandwich to the bottom of her lunch bag and took out the apple and granola bar instead. Neal peered over into the kitchenette area. 

“It’s Killian.” Neal answered. The group collectively groaned, well, except for Emma, who just looked on, perplexed. 

“Killian Jones, lawyer in our Intellectual Property department and God’s gift to mankind, if you ask him.” Ruby muttered, getting a snicker from Trixie. 

The group quickly hushed and became weirdly interested in their food. Emma looked around to see what they saw. A man who might be called tall, dark and handsome was walking from the kitchenette with a plate of salmon filet and rice that he probably didn’t cook himself. Emma knew the type, in a suit worth more than their last paycheck and a swagger that would take any stare as compliment. 

“Ah, if it isn’t my friends in marketing,” the man Emma deduced to be Killian said as he walked by their table. “I see you have a new addition to your ranks. My name’s Killian, it’s nice to meet you.” Killian’s eyes wandered as he gave her a once over. Emma’s eyes narrowed as he lifted her hand from where it rested lightly on the table and pressed his lips to her knuckles in a manner he likely considered charming. Emma felt her appetite lessen. 

“Emma,” she replied curtly.

“Well, I do hope to see more of you, Emma.” He drew her name out as if trying it on for size. Killian winked and kept walking to his lawyer buddies across the room. Emma felt a shudder overtake her body. Her lunchmates burst into laughter as soon as he was out of earshot.

“Ugh, he thinks he’s the shit, graduated top of his class at Princeton or something.” Neal grumbled. “Someone should tell him the expensive piece of paper doesn’t give him integrity.”

“I never understood the whole, school rivalry thing.” Emma chimed in. “Like, the ego that comes with attending one school over another. I never really bought into a school’s reputation as anymore more than propaganda.”

“Well, I guess it’s good that you’re in marketing then,” Ruby teased. 

“Where did you go do school, Emma?” Neal asked. Emma felt her stomach bottom out.

“Bunker Hill Community College,” Emma answered, the rehearsed response jumping readily to her lips. 

“Well, I’d think that too if I went there. The Bunker Hill Bulldogs suck!” Neal teased. Ruby and Neal then went on a tangent trash talking each other’s alma maters. Trixie pushed at Emma’s granola bar where it lay unopened beside her. “What, not hungry?” 

“Yeah, I think I just lost my appetite.” Emma muttered. That was a bold-faced lie and Emma could feel it coming to bite her in the ass as the worlds tumbled from her lips.

***

Emma unlocked the door to her bachelor apartment and looked longingly at her couch. It wasn’t a great couch; Emma wouldn’t call it comfortable on a good day. But Emma made a beeline to the stained, beige couch and sank in. She felt the day in her bones.

She’d been wound tightly from the commute in until she heard the doors to the office building close behind her on the way out. At any moment, Emma feared someone would ask her for more detail about where she went to school, or to demonstrate skill in the design software they used. Logically, Emma knew that she’d deceived both Elle and Mallory in the interview and therefore no one was likely to question her further. Well, not on her first day at least.

Emma’s stomach let out an audible groan and she pulled her uneaten sandwich from her lunch bag. She hadn’t had time to sneak her tuna sandwich at her desk that afternoon, being pulled for training sessions on their current products on the market, then health and safety. Between training sessions, Emma had started reading the Standard Operating Procedures that every employee needed to know for some bureaucratic reason. So she’d read up on the regulatory restrictions they abided by, and about the WHIMIS guidelines relevant to their R&D laboratories. 

Emma had been hungry the whole afternoon—in her natural habitat, Emma ate near constantly, always snacking on something or other. Going an entire four hours (plus her commute home) on an apple and granola bar? Well, it had taken the little energy she had to not show her grumpy exterior to her co-workers. That wasn’t something they needed to know about her just yet.

So while Emma felt like she could spend forever in this old couch, with a spring digging into her side and her butt slowly falling toward the front dip of the cushion, she had learned her lesson. No fish in the office lunch room. So she had to get up off her ass and get to a grocery store so she could make something that wouldn’t send her co-workers running in the opposite direction. 

With a groan, Emma pulled herself from her seated position, swapped out her professional jacket for her red leather one, and made her way to the grocery store. The price she paid to join the white-collared work force. 

***

The second day was easier. Emma was starting to remember the names of people she met outside of her teammates in marketing and was marginally less concerned that Mary Margaret would stop by her cubicle having found an error in her hiring and kick her to the curb.

Her morning was spent reading some of the training documents, hardly putting a dent in the pile. Ruby snatched her away to the kitchenette around 10:30am for a coffee break—apparently the kitchenette was just stocked with coffee employees could use to brew at any time or frequency. The idea of the company providing just a small but thoughtful perk warmed Emma’s heart. Or it could have been the coffee making its way to her belly. 

“So, how are you liking it?” Ruby started grilling her the moment the coffee was in their mugs. 

“Rubes, it’s my second day.” Emma had taken to adopting the nickname that Neal and Trixie had thrown around on her first day. “I’m still getting settled. I haven’t even started my actual work yet!”

“Okay, fair point,” Ruby acquiesced. “But you’re getting a feel for the team and the company’s sort of atmosphere and things?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Emma took another sip of her coffee. Heavenly. “The Media and Marketing gang seems chill. How’s Elle as a boss?”

“Oh, she’s great.” Ruby said, no hesitation or trace of insincerity. “She’s a hard-ass for deadlines and demands high-quality work, but she’s kind and really supportive. Like, it’s a high bar but she helps you get there. It’s Regina you’ve got to look out for.”

“Regina Mills?” Emma probed. “Head of Sales, yeah” As if she could’ve forgotten the indifferent expression of the dark-haired beauty on the company’s Org Chart. Hers was probably the only name Emma hadn’t had any trouble remembering. Ruby nodded. “I thought Sales was their own team? Do we even interact with them?” Emma’s voice was curious, in a professional way, definitely not a hopeful way. 

“I mean, technically they are separate, but we often have overlapping responsibilities so Regina’ll like pull me onto a project and get me to do some graphics for whatever client outreach she has going on. She’s also a hard-ass, hard to please and not one to hold your hand. Honestly, she can be a bit of a bitch.”

Emma quirked her eyebrow. She was not unfamiliar to employees, usually men, referring to their female, ambitious boss as a bitch when they revered their male mentors for the same behaviour. But Ruby didn’t seem the type to toss the term around lightly. From what Emma had gathered, Elle had likely been called a bitch for her no-nonsense attitude, but Ruby hadn’t ascribed the adjective to her. So maybe in this case, there was more to it.

“Okay, so Elle’s the tough but kind sorta boss and Regina’s the hot, scary one.” Emma recapped. Ruby’s eyes widened and Emma opened her mouth to backtrack—she had mostly definitely not given her mouth permission to describe her potentially sometimes boss as “hot”, but she didn’t get the chance. 

“Miss Swan.” A gravelly and unmistakably feminine voice rang out from behind her. Emma turned around slowly, dreading what she’d see. She was certain she’d remember being introduced to the owner of a voice that sent instant shivers down her spine, and if this person knew her name without needing introduction…

She was shorter in person that Emma had imagined from the photo. Perhaps it was the attitude in her expression that made her seem to jump off the page, promising a larger-than-life woman. Despite Emma being able to look down at the woman before her, in a fitted gray pantsuit and perfectly matched and professional accessories, she still felt the intimidation coming off this woman in waves. 

“Um, hi.” Emma stuttered. She very carefully looked only into brown eyes and stuck out her hand in front of her. “Nice to meet you.”

Regina’s eyes flicked to her outstretched hand, lingering on the way down. 

“A pleasure, I’m sure.” She sneered down her nose. Emma felt her skin tighten around her body, felt the blood drain from her pink cheeks. Regina didn’t shake her hand, instead she walked on toward the coffee maker, not stopping to greet any co-workers on her way. 

Emma’s eyes followed her, watched as she walked with a grace that shouldn’t be possible in four inch heels. 

“Damn, Swan.” Ruby chuckled. “Way to make an impression.”

Well, shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I say I'd try to update biweekly?? What a blatant lie that was (to myself).
> 
> Alas, this fic is neither unloved or forgotten. At any given moment, you can assume I am overwhelmed by grad school..
> 
> Your eyes do not deceive you, the projected chapter count has gone up. Yet another example of me lying to myself that I can write this story in a reasonable timeframe (or outline). I'd say this is my final answer, but it's really not. Stay tuned for next time on: how long will this fic be now! (or get real-time updates on chapter count and me retweeting other people's posts on twitter @InTheNameWrites, you know, if you want to)
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy the long awaited second instalment of Affliction of the Heart.

Emma stared at the ceiling above her bed. There was what either a suspicious stain or a shadow from the street light filtering in through her window, a constant presence no matter how tightly Emma drew her curtains shut. Emma was trying to determine whether it was marred light or some light mold, and definitely not thinking about plum-coloured lips pursing into a disparaging smirk or deep brown eyes slowly dragging down her body to scrutinize her outstretched hand. No, Emma definitely wasn’t awake an hour before her alarm went off, daydreaming about her scary, hot, not-quite boss. 

With a groan, Emma threw her legs over the side of her bed, forcing herself to get up. She left the memories tangled in the sheets and walked out of her bedroom, carefully side-stepping the clothes that kept her floorboards company. If she was going to be up this early, she’d need coffee. Emma flicked the on button of the coffee maker that sat beside her kitchen sink. While the coffee maker was doing, well, whatever magic it did to make a cup of coffee Emma didn’t need to choke down, Emma looked over the island counter at her box of a living room. Bare walls and a window without dressings stared back at her. She’d moved into the apartment six months ago and hadn’t decorated beyond the basics: couch, stools, coffee maker, bed. She did have curtains on her bedroom window though, so she was already leagues beyond the last place she’d crashed. 

It wasn’t long before the coffee was ready and Emma poured herself a mug as she blinked past the sleep in her eyes. She inhaled deeply as she walked carefully back to her bedroom and stared at the few clothes in her closet. Though Mary Margaret had cheerfully informed her of the “come as you are” dress code at Charming Diagnostics, Emma had still chosen from two pairs of dress pants and paired it with a muted button down every day this week. Emma took a sip of coffee as she eyed the remaining clean clothes hanging limp off of dollar store hangers. The pickings were slim. The problem with professional clothing was that Emma’s wardrobe had gone from approximately zero percent dry-clean-only to nearly two thirds. And Emma was stingy with her laundry to begin with. Didn’t matter that most of her work attire had been picked out at second-hand stores or Everything Must Go! clearance sales, her wardrobe now contained labels and the upkeep to match. Emma sighed. 

She grabbed a white blouse with a sturdy collar that would stand up for about as long as Emma over the course of the day. Her sleep shirt was off in a flash and strewn across the floor with the rest of the discarded, but not forgotten, articles of clothing. Emma glanced around at the chaos at her feet. Neglected, perhaps, but how could she forget when each sullied garment threatened to upend her as she stumbled into her room every night and from her bed every morning. No, not forgotten, but Emma’s eyes strained as she tried to find her last clean (okay, last not-in-desperate-need-of-a-wash) bra among the rubble. 

It was buried beneath a pile on the chair Emma hadn’t even tried to convince herself would be for reading when she brought it into her bedroom. Darker sections beneath the arms betrayed the sweat that had trailed across the band in previous wears, but it passed the sniff test and that was good enough for Emma. She found a tank top of similar caliber and adorned her armour for the day. 

Somehow, between sips of coffee and the occasional scroll through Instagram, Emma ended up looking not half bad in a not-pressed but not-wrinkled white blouse and dark grey slacks. Emma walked to the bathroom to give herself another once-over. No one would be able to question her professionalism—at least as far as her attire was concerned. Except, there was one thread that was coming loose on the seam that traced her left-side ribs. Emma craned her neck to get a better look. It was small, hardly noticeable, probably. Still, Emma began to pull at it, trying to snap it off. Instead, Emma succeeded in making the thread longer and scrunching the fabric around the seam. Great. Now this, this was noticeable.

Emma hurried back to her closet, looking for something that could cover it up. There. Pushed to the end of the rack. The navy blue sweater vest that would look more at home in Mary Margaret’s closet than her own. The scratchy sweater vest that had been on sale at the thrift store and embodied Emma’s vision of boring working professional. This vest would do nicely. Emma pulled it over her head, messing up her already haggard curls. 

Hairbrush in one hand and detangler in the other, Emma figured she’d put a bit more effort into styling her hair with the extra time she had on her hands. It was a wrestling match with a curling iron and mousse, but in the end Emma had slightly tamer curls pulled back into the inevitable ponytail so, it was time well-spent. Probably. 

Emma’s phone buzzed and she glanced down at the time displayed on the lock screen. Shit. The time hadn’t been worth it because the vibration had been the calendar reminder Emma set to “Get The Fuck Out The Door NOW”. And unless she wanted to show up at the office with morning breath, she was not ready to depart.

She’d really outdone herself this time. Up an hour early, yet she still managed to fuck it up. Classic. Emma sighed and squirted toothpaste on her toothbrush as she brought her now empty coffee mug to her kitchen sink. It was going to be a long day.

***

The good news was: it was Friday, and that meant Emma had almost successfully faked it through her first week at her new job. Almost. The bad news was: she was in the team debriefing meeting and her coworkers were rattling off their progress and priorities of the week and Emma was completely, hopelessly lost. 

If an outsider were to observe this team meeting, they would say Elle ran a tight ship that operated on efficiency and dark roast coffee. Emma felt close enough to that perspective to confirm. The meeting had only been going on for, Emma glanced down at her scratched watch face, 13 minutes and they were already looking at her expectantly.

Emma cleared her throat, trying to soothe the desert it had become and coax out a voice that didn’t sound like she’d been silent for the past decade.

“Uh, well, I spent most of the week doing my training, er, going to training sessions, um, you know, reading SOPs…” Emma trailed off as her update lacked the luster of Neal’s pitch or Ruby’s lengthy list of projects. Trixie shot her a reassuring smile and Emma tried to gather her friendly, professional persona but ended up sending more of a grimace in return. Ruby snorted.

“That’s great progress, Emma,” Elle said, her eyes kind. “Usually, training lasts about 2 weeks or so, depending on when the in-person sessions all get scheduled. Mary Margaret briefed me on your training plan, and it sounds like you’re right on track. Unfortunately, next week’s going to be about as dry as this one.” 

If Emma hadn’t been paying attention, she might have missed the wink Elle ended off with. As it were, every fiber of Emma’s being was watching her boss’s reaction, trying to gage whether her act had been found out, whether she was about to be fired and dragged over the coals, her dirty laundry aired for the team to see. She had a feeling Neal would be a little too pleased, were that scenario to play out.

But the yelling didn’t come. Her position wasn’t terminated. She was just given a list of training documents to prioritize so they could get her started on a project while she wrapped up less crucial items on her list.

The thought equal parts thrilled her and terrified her. What if she was terrible? What if she wasn’t?

***

“Earth to Emma,” Ruby’s voice trickled over the top of Emma’s cubicle wall. Well, if you could call it that. It was barely tall enough to conceal the top of her head as she nose-dived into training documents. Emma tilted her head up to see where Ruby’s chin rested on top of the divider. 

“Yes?” Emma blinked, trying not to make it completely obvious that she hadn’t heard Ruby’s earlier attempts to get her attention. 

“Lunch time. Come join your friends. Be social.” Ruby’s grin turned into a full on smile. Emma blinked. “We’ll see if we can’t get you a work husband.” Ruby eyed Emma’s collared shirt with her dark grey vest and quirked an eyebrow. “Or maybe a work wife?”

Emma snorted, not dignifying the comment with a response. Rather, she minimized the tabs she had open and grabbed her lunch (a perfectly acceptable stir-fry without any aquatic creatures to speak of) from her bag. She followed Ruby, Trixie and Neal into the lunch room with a small smile pulling at her lips. She hadn’t expected to fit in so well here. Hadn’t expected to fit in at all. Her past stalked her like a shadow, a reminder that she hadn’t earned her spot in this company, that she didn’t belong here with the professionals working hard to save someone from an early death in the form of an early diagnosis. Emma was reminded of her lack of qualifications every time she saw the company slogan on the entrance wall, every time a training document contained terminology she had to look up in an incognito window of her browser, every time Ruby showed her the graphics she was working on in a program whose features looked like the USS Enterprise control panel. But then, Ruby would tease her with more familiarity than the duration of their acquaintance warranted, Neal would ask her about her evening and not leave until she gave a genuine answer, Trixie would offer to bring her back a snack from the breakroom, and Emma started to feel like she was a part of the “family” Charming Diagnostics claimed to be. 

Across the lunchroom, Emma saw a familiar mousey woman with wide eyes and a hesitation in every movement as she looked around for a spot to eat her lunch. Emma could detect the aura of an outcast from a mile away; she’d spent long enough on the outside of families looking in to be able to recognize a kindred spirit when she saw one.

“Hey, Belle!” Emma called, loud enough that Trixie flinched beside her at the unexpected assault on her ears. “Over here!”

Wide eyes crinkled at the corners as Belle gave a relieved smile and made her way over. 

“You have other friends?” Ruby mock-whispered. Emma gave her a quick elbow to the side, which left Ruby snickering. 

“Hi Emma,” Belle positively beamed when she reached the table. “Thanks for inviting me to eat with you.”

“Not at all,” Emma brushed off her gratitude like it was a flyer sent to the wrong address. “Belle, meet the gang. This is Trixie, Neal and Ruby. They’re on the Media and Marketing team with me, showing me the ropes. Guys, this is Belle. She’s a chemist in the R&D side of things.”

The gang nodded their hellos at the mention of their names and put on the same smiles they’d shown Emma on her first day.

“So, how’s the lab treating you?” Neal asked, before proceeding to bite into his sandwich and keep talking around it. “Are they letting you near sunlight?”

Belle chuckled and looked down at her yellow lunch box. “My desk is actually near a window, which is nice. The last lab I worked at was in the basement, it sort of felt like a dungeon. But it’s nice here. I haven’t started much work yet though. I still have to go through my training.”

“Ugh, I feel that.” Emma chimed in. “My projected timeline that Mary Margaret gave me says I should be done like, maybe next week, but every time I finish reading a training document, it looks like they’ve multiplied!” Belle met Emma’s eyes and let out a small laugh.

“Get used to it guys,” Trixie said with a smirk. “Any time there’s a new document or an update, it makes the rounds again. So, the joy never ends.”

“They say it’s part of a culture of continuous learning,” Ruby rattled off as if she were reading a script. “But you learn to skim them real quick. Don’t got time for all that reading.”

Belle gasped while the others laughed. Belle had probably been the student who did all the readings for all her courses a week in advance, Emma decided.

“Hey, where were you working before, Belle?” Trixie asked, not letting the pause build tension between the newest member of their group and the bluntest. 

“Oh, I was working for a company that was trying to develop synthetic gold from organic materials.” Belle answered. 

“Why’d you leave, if you don’t mind me asking?” Emma asked, curious about the other new hire. 

“I don’t mind at all!” Belle said lightly. “It was nothing dramatic. I just needed more of a purpose to my work. For a while, just solving the puzzle in front of me was enough. But eventually I needed to be working toward a goal that impacted our society for the better. Not just a few executives.” 

“Fair enough,” Ruby muttered with a glint in her eye. Yes, Emma’s initial assessment of doe-eyed was quickly becoming the exception to the rule.

“Where were you working before this, Emma?” Belle asked with a curiosity that mirrored Emma’s own. Emma felt her heart stop in her chest and a cold sweat begin to breakout. The material of her blouse began to stick to her skin and Emma’s cheeks felt warm.

“Oh, I was, uh, at a design firm in Boston. They mostly dealt with, uh,” Emma pressed her lips together as she tried to remember the line she’d fed Elle and Mallory in her interview. Eyes on her felt like spotlights and Emma had never been a talented performer. Emma faked a cough. “they dealt with robotics, mostly.”

Emma blinked at her new friends. Her new friends blinked back.

“Man, robotics are so cool!” Neal exclaimed, excitement colouring his complexion. “How did they work? What did they do? Is this the future they warned us about in iRobot?”

“I don’t know man,” Emma let out a nervous chuckle. “I just did packaging designs and you know, promotional stuff.” 

“I wish I’d worked at a robot company,” Neal said wistfully as he leaned back in his chair and sailed into a distant day dream. Emma felt relief crash over her in a wave, pulling her beneath the surface until she was struggling for breath and unsure of which way was up. 

“Where did you work before you joined our family, huh Neal?” Trixie asked. The waves calmed. For the moment, she wasn’t found out. Emma was starting to think this job would be a series of moments. 

“Oh, that’s right,” Ruby jumped in to finish Trixie’s thought. “You didn’t. You walked out of the womb and into Charming Diagnostics.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re hilarious.” Neal said, the slight dig rolling right off his shoulders and onto to floor. Neal didn’t seem affected in the least. “My dad got me this job.” Neal looked over at Belle and Emma in explanation. “Nepotism at its finest! Just look at all the great work I’ve done for this company. Our advertising efforts have generated a near-exponential increase in customers since I joined the team.”

“It’s true. He may have inherited it, but no one can say he’s bad at his job.” Ruby agreed, speaking directly to Emma and Belle.

“Strictly speaking, it’s rather improbable that the sales increased exponentially since you arrived.” Belle muttered. Four sets of eyes turned to her. “Well, an exponential curve is where the variable is in the exponent and this results in increasing multiplication of the base number by itself. Even if you start out with a base of two, you get up to one thousand twenty four in ten increments of the variable. Those numbers get quite large, quite fast. Though, here I suppose the base would have to be the number of customers present when you started, and the variable a unit of time. Even with the time increment of a year, unless you’re specifically referencing the very beginning of the exponential curve, I find it highly improbable that your increase in customers has been exponential. Though, maybe the customers present when you started is actually an added constant and the base is something else entirely…” Belle trailed off, eyes glazed and pointed far beyond her companions.

Ruby burst into a roaring laughter at that, quickly joined by Trixie and Emma. Neal just stared in shock at their newest friend.

“Sorry.” Belle added meekly, apparently becoming aware of the bubble she had burst.

“I like this one. I think we’ll keep her.” Ruby announced to no one in particular. 

“Miss Lucas,” a cold, low voice interrupted the laughter hanging in the air at their table. “I hope you know holding people against their will is strictly against company policy. Not to mention illegal.”

Emma’s eyes were drawn to the figure glaring down at Ruby from the end of the table. There was no smile adorning Regina’s features as she spoke. Not even a quirked corner of the lips. Emma’s eyes traced their outline to be sure. No, perfectly symmetrical, save for a slight scar on the left side. Regina’s deep plum lips were decidedly in a frown.

When Emma ripped her gaze upward to Regina’s eyes, she found them staring back. Emma’s breath caught in her throat and she let out a small cough. Was that a hint of amusement marring a backdrop of chocolate brown? 

“Uh, of course, Belle is here completely willingly.” Ruby muttered, trying and failing to hide a grin. 

“I have to bump up our meeting. Something came up,” Regina said, whipping out her phone to type at 60 words per minute. Maybe a _no_ on the sense of humour then. “Can you meet at 12:30?”

“That’s in, like, ten minutes,” Ruby noted, her forkful of Buddha Bowl halted halfway to her mouth. 

“Will that be a problem?” Regina looked up from her phone, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

“Uh, no.” Ruby put her fork down. Neal and Trixie were decidedly avoiding making eye contact, doing excellent impressions of flies on walls. Belle was observing the scene in a way that could only be described as inquisitive. Emma was sure there was another, less academic descriptor for her own gawking. Ruby glanced over, making eye contact with Emma and brightened slightly. “Hey, would it be cool if Emma sat in? It would be good for her to get a feel for the project.”

“No.” Regina said, returning her attention to her phone screen. “I don’t have time to hold the new girl’s hand.” With that, Regina walked off, her heels calling attention to every added step between her and their table.

“She hates me.” Emma muttered. That seemed to knock Neal and Trixie out of their vow of silence and started up their giggling once more. 

“Don’t think anything of it,” Ruby said confidently. “She’s like that with everyone.”

Ruby didn’t elaborate as she scarfed down the rest of her lunch. Emma felt Belle’s eyes on her, giving Emma a look that seemed pitying. Emma bristled at that, but let the tension out with her next breath. If their roles were reversed, she’d feel bad for the new girl who’d pissed off the middle management in her first week on the job, too.

***

“Come in.” 

Emma felt the acknowledgement seep under her skin like a frigid breeze. She shivered at the cold edge to the words. She opened the door to the boardroom and saw Regina sitting with her laptop near the end of the room where a PowerPoint presentation was projected onto the wall. _Introduction to Sales_. Clean lines, minimal graphics, no bright colours. The title slide seemed on-brand. Regina didn’t look up from what she was typing. Also on-brand.

Looking around the room, Emma took a chair across the table from Regina, but slightly further toward the middle of the room. Belle wasn’t here yet, which was uncharacteristic of her. Every training session they had had this week, Belle had consistently been 5 minutes early. But now, with only 3 minutes to spare, Belle was nowhere in sight.

Emma placed her notebook on the table and opened it to the blank first page. She got the feeling she wouldn’t be able to get away without taking notes in this session. 

“Alright, let’s get started.” Regina said, punctuated with a slightly more aggressive tap to her keyboard.

“Aren’t we going to wait for Belle?” Emma asked. Technically, her friend wasn’t actually late. Yet.

“Belle.” Regina repeated, tone flat, eyes searching. A beat passed before brown eyes brightened. “Ah, you mean Ms. French. This session isn’t in her training plan. But as a member of the marketing team, you’ll be working closely with the sales department. Hence why I am giving this presentation to a party of one.”

Regina had gone from looking like she’d worked out a puzzle to looking like this was a waste of her time in 2 seconds flat. Before Emma had a chance to contemplate the slight crinkle between the woman’s sculpted brows, Regina was starting her speech.

“Seeing as you aren’t going to be interacting with any of our customers, I’ll give you the short version.” Regina began, turning to look at the presentation slides. “When we meet with potential clients, here are the five main things they want to know about Charming Diagnostics and our test.”

Emma really wished she could say she wasn’t distracted by the way Regina’s cheekbone ran parallel to her jawline, or the curve of her lip outlined in deep plum. Regina didn’t look away from the PowerPoint, and as snippets of the presentation lofted into Emma’s sphere of awareness, she decided to do the same. It helped some, and Emma felt she was picking up the key points, probably. The gist was good enough. It wasn’t like there was a quiz at the end.

“Questions?” Regina asked, turning to look at Emma for the first time since she’d started. If that was the short version, Emma would hate to sit through the feature length presentation. But, that was not a question, and Emma started wracking her brain to find something intelligible to contribute. There was 20 minutes until their session officially ended. Emma equal parts itched to leave and ached to see the clock hands hit 3PM. 

“So, there seems to be like, a sort of, discrepancy in the rhetoric of your messaging to the customers and the incentives to the team?” Emma lilted the end of the sentence to give the illusion of asking a question. She’d also pulled out all the fancy words she’d learned in the online marketing class she’d ditched after two weeks. Regina’s shoulders tensed ever so slightly. Clearly Emma wasn’t off to a great start. She felt herself starting to sweat and began to ramble. “I mean, so your materials are all focused on the benefits of the technology, which yeah, is exactly what you want to be doing as a private business selling a product. So, I get that. But, I guess my question is, when in the healthcare sector, isn’t it kind of like, morally questionable to have the incentives of the team and the company be to make money and sell as many tests as you can? Like, look at the scientists in R&D, they’re all here to advance diagnostic technology to save people’s lives. Then, on our end, we’re trying to make the company money by increasing sales. I don’t know, I guess it’s more of a philosophical question of how you reconcile a capitalist venture in a sector where the consequences are literally life or death.”

Emma winced at her own words. That was not the direction she’d intended to go when she’d opened her mouth. Regina’s eyes steeled. She closed her laptop none too gently and took out the adaptor to the projector. 

“The work this company does saves lives, Miss Swan. And the only way it can succeed is through the hard work of all its employees. We are a team, win together, lose together. You say the scientists do work for the right reasons, that research is inherently pure of heart and commercialization is its rival. Tell me, do you think there is use to a diagnostic test that sits in a lab, inaccessible to anyone who needs it? Do you think a patient can have this test run if their doctor doesn’t know it exists? One department is not more _noble_ than another. If you can’t appreciate that, well…” 

Regina trailed off, the implication hanging in the air enough to complete her argument. Emma felt sufficiently dressed down, and not in the fun way. Regina gave her one last glare before stalking out of the room. 

So, Emma hadn’t _meant_ to imply that Regina was just in this job for the money and didn’t care about the vision of the company or the patients it helped, but here she was. Because apparently she couldn’t make it three days without putting her own foot in her mouth and calling her own integrity into question in front of the woman who’d very likely be supervising some of her projects in the near future. Great. 

***

Emma hardly had time to sit down at her desk and cool her flaming cheeks before Ruby popped her head over their divider. Emma groaned, mostly internally. Ruby’s eyebrow raised slightly. It didn’t have the same effect as Regina’s had.

“I take it your training session went well, then?” Ruby quipped. Emma groaned again, completely aloud this time. 

“She hates me.” Emma whispered. Ruby leaned in closer.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Ruby stage-whispered back. Her grin nearly split her face, it got so large. Emma wrinkled her nose in response. “Come on now, it’s time for the department meeting.”

“Uh, didn’t we just have that?” Emma asked.

“That was the team meeting. This is all of the Sales and Marketing department.” Ruby’s grin was back. “Lucky you, more face time with your arch nemesis.”

“She’s not my nemesis,” Emma protested. “It’s just, I seem to be hers? Or something. I don’t know, she just hates me. Why do we have to have this meeting right on the heels of the team one?”

“The team meeting is more like a status update type session. You saw, it was over in like 15 minutes. This will likely be the whole hour. Updates on progress, new projects, planning the next week or few weeks. And just think, you get to meet the big boss now! So, yeah, worth it. Plus we all go home early after the meeting on Fridays. No one expects us to get much work done afterward.”

Emma just hummed as she gathered her notebook and pen. 

“Come, you can sit by me.” Ruby said, coming round the cubicle to entwine Emma’s arm with the crook of her elbow. Emma rolled her eyes but laughed along. Ruby led to the way to a board room Emma hadn’t been in yet. But, she recognized the corridor they’d gone down, and that was a good sign. Maybe one day Emma wouldn’t feel like a rat in a maze every time she came into work.

Sitting at the head of the table was Mallory Davis, an impressive woman you’d thank to walk all over you. Her blonde hair fell in the same perfect curls she’d had at Emma’s interview. Blue eyes snapped over to Emma and Ruby as they entered the boardroom. A small smile graced red lips.

“Emma, how are you settling in?” Mallory asked, genially.

“Uh, well, I think.” Emma answered, forcing a smile as she sat down beside Ruby. 

“You think?” Mallory’s tone was teasing, but her eyes were sharp, crinkled at the corners. 

“Yeah, it’s just, well, it’s a learning curve. A lot of documents to read. But I’m happy to be here and excited to get started on projects soon.” Emma started rambling, feeling the back of her neck warm. She ended up finishing her sentence to the middle of the table, rather than meeting Mallory’s eye.

Mallory chuckled. 

“Ah yes, the bureaucracy of it all can get a bit overwhelming. But it’s all for good reason, I’m assured. You’ll pick it up quick.” Mallory ended with a wink that was surely meant to reassure her. It did not. 

The door closed as the Sales team entered and took their seats. One of them, Emma would describe him of the human embodiment of the term “burly”, sat next to Emma and leaned in over the arm rest of his seat.

“Hey, I’m Gaston,” he whispered with a bright smile. Emma briefly wondered if his face came in two settings: charming grin and, well, whatever this was. 

“Emma,” was her curt reply. Thankfully, she was saved from having to make small talk by Elle chiming in from where she sat in the back corner, chair pulled out from the table.

“Ah, yes, I suppose introductions are in order. Sales team, this is Emma, our newest addition to our Marketing and Media team.” Elle announced. Introductions were made, going around the table. Starting with Gaston, making the rounds to Hans, Dory and Anna in the middle, and ending with,

“Regina Mills, Head of Sales.” 

Which, yeah, they’d already established.

“Alright, updates.” Mallory called out, signalling the beginning of the meeting. Emma glanced at the clock. Right on time. 

The marketing updates were just a rehash of the earlier team meeting they’d had, with the difference being Elle gave the summary. She gave an energetic and thorough pitch, occasionally pausing as Mallory interjected with probing questions. Often, Trixie, Neal or Ruby would give specific insights, all just chiming in casually. There wasn’t a tension in the air of subordinates getting challenged. Just a team working to make their projects better. Emma smiled.

The updates from the sales team went by in a blur of company names and profit margins, only Regina’s cool, succinct delivery reverberating between Emma’s ears and making a home there for any length of time. The supporting members of the sales team were less eager to jump in and offer details. Whether that was a function of Regina’s comprehensive delivery or their team dynamics, well, Emma had her suspicions.

“Ok, excellent.” Mallory said with finality when Regina took a breath. “Sounds like everyone’s on track, which is what I like to hear. Now, as for new business, Eugenia’s made a connection for us to develop.”

Emma blinked.

“Eugenia Lowe, the Chief Compliance Officer.” Ruby leaned over to whisper in Emma’s ear at her blank expression.

“One of her old hunting buddies is high up at Healthbrook hospital in New York. They’ve expressed interest in our diagnostic test. We need to sell it though, and they have different sources of funding than we’re used to. They’ll need approval from their foundation board members, which, is time consuming and wholly inefficient, but we play by their rules or not at all. So, we’ll need to revise our promotional materials and get them in for printing pronto.”

Mallory looked over at Elle, who wore a contemplative frown.

“Can your team work on the materials, have them ready by mid-week?” Mallory asked, cool and seemingly with room to object but the way Elle’s nostrils flared slightly made Emma think maybe it was just for show.

“Of course, Ruby’s busy on a couple projects between Regina and I, but Emma’s nearly done her training and I’m sure she can pitch in to help draft those up.” Elle said. If one weren’t looking closely, they might miss the slightly lines forming between Elle’s brows as she gave a polite smile. Emma felt herself begin to sweat. Her first assignment. Ok. She could do this.

“Excellent, I’ll send you and Regina the details to coordinate moving forwa—” Mallory was cut off mid-sentence, much to the surprise of the room.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Regina, the only person in the room who would dare interrupt their boss, if the shocked expressions around the table were anything to go by. Emma felt her cheeks flame. At this rate, red would be their permanent state.

“What do you mean, Regina?” Elle asked, her tone devoid of patience. 

“Miss Swan, can you tell me the difference between the sensitivity and specificity of a diagnostic test?” Regina turned her gaze to lock with Emma’s rather than answer Elle. 

“Um, I, uh,” Emma started, hoping desperately the words would come to her when all she could focus on was the sweat trickling down her sleeve and the sound of her heart beating in her ears. She glanced over at Elle, who gave nothing away in her expression but offered a small nod. Emma took in a deep breathe that was a little shaky on intake. “Um, it’s the metrics of the test’s accuracy.”

“Well, yes, dear. But I asked for the difference between the two.” Regina said calmly, an air of satisfaction breaking over her features. In that moment, Emma knew she’d lost. This was the moment she’d be found out. A week was probably longer than she could have hoped for in this job anyway.

“I, I don’t,” Emma started, her voice small.

“She’s not ready,” Regina cut her off, speaking to Mallory. Emma looked down at her hands, not wanting to see the face of disappointment from her boss, or the pity of her colleagues.

“I take your point, Regina.” Mallory began, considering her words carefully. “Though I remind you that putting our new colleagues on the spot in team meetings is not conducive to the atmosphere of professionalism we aim to uphold here at Charming Diagnostics. Elle, it’s probably best if Emma has Ruby show her the ropes before taking the lead on a project herself. She can help with Ruby’s tasks so we don’t overwork our senior graphic designer and burn her out before the end of Q4.”

“Alright.” Elle said, her voice strained. Regina just nodded. Emma let out the breathe she’d been holding. Relief washed over her instantaneously, but did little to ebb the lingering humiliation that burned at the edges of her eyes.

“Okay team, good meeting. Have a good weekend.” Mallory said, closing her laptop in front of her. 

“A word, Regina.” Elle hissed, the anger she’d been supressing during the meeting leaking into her voice. Regina followed her out of the boardroom, shooting Emma a look down her nose on the way out.

Emma felt rooted to her chair. What a fucking close call.

“Yeah, you were right.” Ruby said, jostling Emma back to reality.

“Huh?” Emma responded.

“She definitely hates you.” Ruby said with a pitying smile. Emma decided this was her least favourite look on her new friend. “Now come on, we’re taking you out for drinks.”

“I don’t really feel like…” Emma began to protest.

“Come on, we’ll drown your sorrows over getting on Regina’s bad side so efficiently, and we’ll show you how cool your new co-workers are.” Ruby’s regular smile came back.

“Yeah, come out to happy hour with us, Emma.” Gaston added from where he was lingering at the door. “We’d love to get to know you.” He ended with a wink. Emma frowned.

Emma wasn’t really one for getting to know her co-workers. Never had been. But, she hadn’t been fired this week. And, maybe that was worth celebrating.

“Yeah, I’ll meet you there.” Emma said with a smile.


End file.
